The Reverberations of Choice
by Koinaka
Summary: For every action, there is a equal and opposite reaction-Sir Isaac Newton. In a desperate attempt to save her son, Lily Potter exchanges her life for his. When it doesn't quite work out the way she thought it would, will the Wizarding world pay the ultimate price?
1. Prologue

Heyyy guys. It's been a long time since I've written anything thanks to grad school! Nearly finished though (I graduate in May!) so hopefully I'll have more time to write. Well, until I begin my PhD in the fall, but I am rather optimistic for now. Also, no beta, so pardon me for any mistakes!

The Reverberations of Choice

_"I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.  
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell  
That summons thee to heaven or to hell."_

Macbeth (II, i, 62-64)

Prologue

They were supposed to be safe. After months of running, of moving from one house to another, from one safe location to another, they had finally acquiesced to Dumbledore's wishes and allowed him to cast the Fidelius Charm. He had assured them—had _promised_—them that it would hide them completely.

Of course, nobody counted on Peter's betrayal.

Neither of them moved for several long seconds after the wards fell. They both exchanged a look of horror before James breathed out one word.

"_Peter."_

Then, panic kicked in.

James brandished his wand and moved towards the entry hall. He attempted to erect a number of different wards, none of which would take. Finally, he turned to a still horror-stricken Lily. "Take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off."

Lily jumped up, jostling little Harry who had fallen asleep on her lap, and causing him to cry.

With one last look at her husband, Lily ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She had to move fast—there was no time to waste—she couldn't be interrupted.

James may have placed all of his trust in Dumbledore, but from the moment Lily Potter had heard that her son was in mortal danger, she had thrown herself headfirst into research, searching for a way to save her son. In her search, Lily had traveled along a dark, dangerous path, but she did not care one whit. What good were her morals, her _soul_, if something happened to her son? She couldn't bear the thought of something happening to him. So, she had searched, and finally, against all hopes, she found a solution.

The second she was in the nursery, Lily threw the strongest locking spells she knew at the door. She took a deep breath and looked down at her screaming son. She wished she had time to soothe him, but she didn't.

"Mummy's going to make everything better," she promised him, her voice breaking, as tears began to fall down her face. She pressed a kiss against his sweaty brow.

She flicked her wand, causing the rug that covered the nursery floor to go flying across the room. Beneath it, on the hardwood flooring she had picked out with James only a month before their marriage was a ritual circle.

A bang downstairs let her know that time was running out. This had to work. It was the only way—the _only _thing she could do to save her son….

She placed Harry in the middle of the circle before placing her wand on the activation rune. Then Lily pulled the ceremonial dagger that she had carried around in her pocket for months, unshrinking it as soon as she removed it. She closed her eyes and slit one of her wrists and then the other.

Trembling, she drew the first rune on Harry's forehead with her blood, beginning the ritual.

"Commutent spiritum meum…"


	2. Chapter One

Still a bit shorter than I'd like but they chapters will get larger, I promise. Longer note at the end of the chapter.

The Reverberations of Choice

_"I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.  
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell  
That summons thee to heaven or to hell."_

Macbeth (II, i, 62-64)

Chapter One: An Unexpected Exchange

_"__Commutent spiritum meum…"_

Aster Evans woke up with a start. He rubbed his forehead, expecting to find it covered in blood. His hand was clean, however. There was no blood. Aster sighed and fell back against his pillow until he was able to catch his breath. Then, he grabbed the leather bound journal off of his night stand and scrawled the details of the dream on a clean page. Ten year old Aster had had strange dreams for as long as he could remember—dreams about a world that didn't exist—a world that _couldn't exist_—a world where people could do the same things that he could do—a world where he was someone else, a girl named Lily.

His mum and dad said they were just dreams. The doctor they took him to said they were just dreams.

Only...he was convinced they weren't.

Because sometimes—_sometimes_—the things he saw really happened.

More than that, Aster _knew_ that he was just like the people in his dreams. He might not be a girl named Lily, but he knew that he was a wizard. Well, at least he thought he was. He couldn't exactly be sure that he was the one responsible for the strange things that sometimes happened whenever he was angry or scared.

He really hadn't meant to turn his big sister's favorite doll into a spider after he discovered his picture of a man turning into a dog ripped into pieces, but all the same he had. And he hadn't meant to make her mouth disappear, but he just wanted her to stop calling him a _freak!_ It didn't help matters that no one but him remembered those things, either.

Nobody believed him. Everyone just thought that Aster had a very active imagination. Once he'd overheard Dr. Billingham tell his parents that sometimes gifted children—which he was considered to be—suffered from isolation from peers and that the dreams were just his way of inventing a world where he fit in.

Aster knew that wasn't the truth, though. Because if the dreams were just dreams, why did strange things happen around him, and why did they sometimes come true?

With a sigh, Aster got out of bed. There was no sense dwelling on things he couldn't change. Plus, something very important was going to happen today.

Today Aster was going to make a friend.

The playground was just as deserted as it had been in the dream even more so because of the absence of Petunia. Given a choice, Petunia stayed as far away from Aster as she possibly could. Unfortunately, for both of them, their parent's didn't often give her a choice. Today, though, she was in bed sick with a cold.

It didn't bother Aster that his sister wasn't with him. After all, he was used to being alone. He almost preferred it, actually.

He spent several minutes on the swing set absently swinging as his eyes swept over the playground continuously. Then he leaned against a tree and began to read his well-worn copy of _The Fellowship of the Ring_. He got so lost in the book he didn't notice the rustling in the bush next to him until he felt the weight of someone's eyes on him.

"Oh!" he gasped. He dropped his book in surprise when he looked up to find himself face to face with Severus Snape, the boy from his dreams.

The boy's sallow skin flushed, and he fumbled to retrieve the book to Aster. "I didn't mean to disturb you," he muttered.

Aster gave him a bright smile. "You didn't disturb me. I've been waiting for you."

The boy's eyes widened with surprise and then narrowed in suspicion. "Waiting for what?"

"To meet you, of course. Hello Severus. I'm Aster, and we're going to be the best of friends."

Severus' mouth dropped open. "How'd you know my name?"

"I've been dreaming about you for ages," Aster said. Severus opened his mouth to speak, but Aster pushed on. "I know you've been watching me, too, and I really wanted to talk to you before. I thought it best to wait, though."

Severus seemed to have calmed a bit because the suspicious look on his face was gone, replaced by one of utmost eagerness. Without being asked—not that he needed to be asked—he sat down next to Aster in the grass.

"You dreamed about me?" he asked after a minute. His eyes were drinking in Aster, from his dark red hair to his bright green eyes.

"Yes," Aster confirmed.

"What were the dreams about?"

Aster shrugged. "All sorts of things, really." He paused. "You believe me, don't you? I hate to ask only no one ever really believes me." He sighed.

Severus nodded his head almost violently. "I believe you."

Aster chewed his bottom lip as he studied the other boy, looking for any signs of dishonesty. Seeing none, he leaned forward and asked in a hushed voice, "Do you believe in magic?"

Again, Severus nodded his head. "I do. I'm a wizard. So are you. I've seen you do magic before. That's why I've been watching you."

Now it was Aster's eyes that widened. "So, it's real, then? Magic?"

Severus' look became serious. "Yes, it is."

The boy's spent the next several hours exchanging stories. Severus told Aster about how his mum was a witch. He also told Aster that he thought he might be a seer after Aster told him about some of his dreams. When Aster told him that some of the things he dreamed about had come true, this seemed to confirm it. It was only when the sun began to set that the boys parted.

"Same time tomorrow?" Aster asked as they parted.

Severus nodded. "Same time tomorrow."

-end

Heyyy, okay. So I'm sure you guys will have tons of questions. Feel free to ask them, but I reserve the right to not answer if it'll spoil the story! Also, do you know how difficult it was to find a flower name for a boy? I'm fairly happy with Aster though.


	3. Chapter Two

The Reverberations of Choice

_"I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.  
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell  
That summons thee to heaven or to hell."_

Macbeth (II, i, 62-64)

Chapter Two

As the months passed by, Aster and Severus became inseparable. In fact, if not for school—which only Aster attended as Severus' mum homeschooled him—they would have spent their every waking moment together. Something strange happened, though, as time went on. The closer that the two boys became, the vaguer and more infrequent Aster's dreams became. He still had them, from time to time, but now they consisted of merely flashes or impressions. He didn't have much time to think about this, though, because in only a few short months, he—and Severus, of course—would be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

If their letters came…

Not that Aster doubted Severus because he didn't, but sometimes he was afraid it wasn't true And Petunia didn't help in that respect since she'd overheard Severus telling him about Hogwarts. Ever since then, she had done her best to make him feel as awful as she could. She refused to refer to him by name, calling him only "freak," and telling him that he was "unnatural."

A tap at his window broke Aster out of his thoughts. He sighed and got out of his bed. Poor Severus.

Sure enough, Severus was standing outside of his window. Severus sneaking to his house late at night was quickly becoming another routine as his parents' fights escalated. He opened the window and then stepped back so Severus could climb in. He frowned as he noticed drying tear tracks on Severus' cheeks. He knew better not to ask about it though. Severus was ridiculously private. Instead, he just closed the window and pulled the other boy to his bed. The bed was a bit cramped with both boys in it, but neither boy cared.

A few minutes of silence passed before Aster voiced the question that had been niggling in the back of his mind for days.

"Does it matter? Being Muggleborn, I mean?"

Severus hesitated before shaking his head. "No. It doesn't matter."

Aster sighed, his face relaxing. "Good."

He burrowed deeper within the blankets. "Night, Sev."

A pause. "Goodnight, Aster."

When summer finally arrived, Severus began to spend more time at the Evans' residence than at his own house. Aster's parents didn't seem to mind Severus staying over although Aster had noticed the two exchanging worried looks every so often when faced with Severus' ragged clothes or the bruises—both faded and fresh—that could sometimes be found on him.

It wasn't until Severus turned up at their house with a bloody nose and black eye that his parents finally intervened. Aster wasn't exactly sure what happened, as his parents had sent him and Petunia to their rooms so that they could talk to Severus in private, but the end result was that Severus would be staying with them for a while.

"Did your dad do that?" Aster asked, later that night, after his mum and dad had gone to Severus' house to retrieve his things and talk to his parents.

Severus nodded, tersely. He was wearing a pair of Aster's pajamas, and he looked even more uncomfortable wearing the pajamas than he did wearing any of his own clothing. Aster's mum was already planning a shopping trip in a day or two to buy Severus some new things though he had protested vehemently against it. Aster could have told him that protesting was useless. Both Aster and his dad had learned that it was just easier to go along with her when she was in one of those moods instead of fighting about it.

"Does he not like magic?" Aster asked, curiously. Severus had never told him what exactly it was that his parents fought about continuously, or why his dad treated him the way he did, but since the fighting had increased the closer it got to Severus starting Hogwarts, Aster thought maybe that had something to do with it.

Severus laughed bitterly. "He doesn't like anything, much—'cept for drinking." Severus let out a strangled breath, and Aster took that as a cue to change the subject.

He put a bright smile on his face and pulled Severus to his feet. "Let's go downstairs and see what's on the telly. I think we might have some treacle tart left, too."

They ended up spending the night watching corny horror films on the telly and eating far too much treacle tart before falling asleep on either end of the sofa.

Aster woke up at dawn. Something wonderful was going to happen today—he just knew it. He left Severus asleep on the couch and went to get ready for the day. Severus was still asleep when he finally returned to the living room half an hour later.

Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. He tapped Severus on the shoulder several times until Severus' dark eyes fluttered open. He looked confused for a minute before his face settled into a scowl. "'hat time s'it?" he slurred, his voice heavy with sleep.

Aster shrugged. "Dunno, but you've got to get up, Sevvy!"

If it was possible, Severus' scowl deepened. "'ve told you not to call me Sevvy," he muttered, his eyes falling closed once more.

Aster sighed. "Severus, you've got to get up. I think," he paused and looked around to make sure they were alone, "—I think our letters are going to come today."

That seemed to get his attention. "Did you have another dream?"

Aster shook his head. "No, but I still think—" Aster cut off when he heard his mum coming down the stairs.

Both boys stayed silent until they heard the sound of water being run in the kitchen. Then Severus heaved a much put upon sigh and stretched languidly before pulling himself first into a sitting position and then, finally standing up. The two boys exchanged a look when sound of the water ended and then headed back up the stairs into Aster's room.

"I think someone'll bring you your letter," Severus said, quietly, once they were settled on the top of Aster's bed. "Since you're Muggleborn. They can't just send it by owl. They'll have to explain it—magic, y'know—to your mum and dad."

Aster nodded. "That makes sense. Otherwise they might think it was just a trick, wouldn't they?"

"Probably," Severus agreed. "They have to make sure your parents know not to tell anyone outside of the family, too. The Ministry's really strict about that. They have all sorts of laws. Statue of Secrecy, it's called."

Aster didn't think his parents would tell anyone, but Petunia on the other hand… he couldn't be sure she wouldn't. The two had never been particularly close. Petunia had always been jealous of him though Aster never could pinpoint why. When she discovered he was magical—that he was a _wizard_—well, she was sure to be jealous of that as well.

He looked over at Severus to mention that to him. Severus, however, had fallen back asleep, his dark head resting on the same pillow as Aster's. Sighing, Aster allowed his own eyes to fall close, images of a world he had yet to experience flittering through his head.

The two boys slept until Aster's mum woke them for breakfast. A much more subdued Aster followed Severus down the stairs.

He had had a strange dream—of a dark haired man and a red headed woman carrying a dark haired baby, of a whispered word—a whispered _name_—of blood flowing freely from the woman's wrists.

The dream was important—the whispered name was important—but with every moment the dream was slipping away from him. Slipping further and further away from him until it was going, going—_gone_ by the time breakfast was halfway over.

Aster and Severus were clearing the table when there was a knock at the door. At first, Aster did not even react as he was so lost in thought over the dream. Severus nudged him, though, shooting him a look when his mum appeared in the doorway.

"Aster," his mum said, her voice hesitant. "You've a visitor. A Professor McGonagall."

Professor McGonagall turned out to be a stern-faced witch who had a very no-nonsense air about her. She explained things in a brisk, matter-of-fact manner. When prompted by Aster's father to show them a bit of magic, she transformed herself, briefly, into a cat, shocking everyone.

"Now, then," Professor McGonagall said after finishing up with her explanations. "If you would like, I have procured a Portkey—a magical method of travel—if you would like me to accompany you to Diagon Alley to purchase your school supplies. You may, of course, do so on your own, if you would rather."

"Yes, please," his dad said. "I wouldn't know where to even start!"

Before they left for the alley, however, the professor pulled Severus to the side and spoke to him for several moments and then handed him a pouch. Aster was tempted to ask what that was about but Severus, red-faced, had already shoved the pouch into his pocket.

When everybody was ready to go, Professor McGonagall held out a seemingly normal scrap of paper and instructed everyone to touch it. No sooner had Aster placed his finger on the paper did he feel a hook at his navel pulling him forward. With his free hand, he grabbed ahold of Severus as they were whipped around a maelstrom of wind and colors. His father, opposite him, had a delighted look on his face.

Aster landed in a crumpled heap on the ground with Severus following close behind. His father's face had lost none of its delight though his normally neat hair was now very windblown. Professor McGonagall looked as prim as ever with not even a strand of hair out of place. She tucked the piece of paper back into her skirt and leveled her gaze at Severus and Aster.

"Welcome, gentlemen, to Diagon Alley."

* * *

Hey guys! Things should pick up from here. I'm planning on having next chapter be the Diagon Alley visit along with the last bit of summer plus maybe the train ride. I don't know though.

Now, a question for you guys. Would you like for Aster to be close to the Marauders?


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